Last Moments
by unsaidesires
Summary: Modern!Au where Marco spends his last moments with Jean after a fatal accident. Despite doing that, despite all the memories, both Jean and Marco regretted not doing things they wanted to. [JeanMarco] (THERE'S A SEQUEL FOR THIS.)
1. First Moments

**_A/n : Here's another angst-y story about one of my otps, JeanMarco. This pairing physically hurts me, ok, so I'm gonna put some effort into this. So yeah, here you go. Please enjoy. I'll try to angst this thing._**

* * *

_"Hey, Jean."_

_"What's up, Marco?" _

_"Uh... If... If I ever get into a fatal car accident and have to be hospitalized for a long time... Can you do me a favour?" _

_Jean just stared at him with a look saying, _What are you saying all of a sudden?

_Having read his expression, Marco said, "Can you?" _

_Jean replied, "Of course."_

_"Can you lie my mother that the university suddenly sent me overseas for a course... And I won't be coming back for quite some time?" Marco rubbed his elbow, a little guilty. _

_"Eh? But wouldn't that be... Bad?" Jean tried to find the right word to use. _

_"It's fine. The last thing I want her to do is worry about me." _

_"Well... If you say so, then okay."_

* * *

"_Excuse_ me? What did you just say?" Jean was on the verge of smashing his phone against a wall.

"I'm sorry, but please come to the hospital immediately."

Jean hung up and sprinted out of the house without hesitation.

_Damn, Marco... Who do you think you are?! Some kind of fortune-telling guy?_ Jean ranted as he ran to the nearby hospital where Marco was being hospitalized.

Upon reaching the hospital, he found the ward and was greeted by a stern-looking doctor.

"I shall assume you must be Marco Bodt's friend?"

"Eh? But shouldn't the rela-" Jean paused.

_Oh yeah, he can't tell his mother about this._

"Ah... Y-Yeah, I am."

"Please enter."

Jean entered and met a Marco who was deep in slumber.

He took a step closer when the doctor's voice halted him, "Unfortunately, the car accident was way too fatal. The right side of the patient's body is completely paralyzed..."

Jean whipped around to look at him, wanting to say - yell or shout - something, anything, "Wh-"

The doctor continued, "However... There's worse."

Jean went silent, he could hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears, beckoning him not to hear any more. There was nothing going through his mind now, it was blank, empty, just nothingness.

"A part of his brain was damaged and... His cells are regenerating at a much slower pace than it should be..."

Jean was taking a medical course in university, and he anticipated what was to come from that. His heart seemed to have stopped beating, as he could not hear it echo in his ears anymore. He did not want to hear it.

"His days are numbered."

The doctor's words did not hit him as hard as he expected it to, and he was somewhat... Relieved.

_Well... I already knew this was coming..._

_There's nothing surprising about this... Right?_

Trying - and failing - to assure himself, Jean staggered back.

"Before the patient fell asleep, he told me to not call his mother and instead call you, so you don't need to worry," having said that, the doctor walked out of the room to leave him and Marco alone.

Muttering a soft "Thanks", he sat down beside Marco.

Jean stared at Marco's face and Marco suddenly opened his eyes.

"Eh? Marco?" Jean was shocked.

_He was not ready to talk to him yet._

Marco looked over to him, and forced a smile, "Good morning, Jean."

"Eh? A-Ah, good morning... Marco," Marco's name felt funny on his tongue.

"You heard what the doctor said, right?" Still smiling, Marco looked back at the ceiling. Jean looked down, "Mm..."

Marco chuckled softly and teased, "What kind of face is that? Cheer up, Jean."

"How am I supp-" Jean snapped.

"It's going to be fine," Marco interrupted.

"But..." Jean's voice softened. "But, Marco... You're going to..."

"I know."

"Then how can you..." Jean hesitated. "Smile... like that?"

"Because, I get to spend my last moments with you."

Upon hearing that, Jean could feel tears welling up in his eyes but he did not wipe them off. As tears started to stream down his face, Marco said, "Please don't cry for me, Jean. Don't. My right side is paralyzed and I won't be able to reach your face with my left from here."

More tears could only flow as Jean clutched at his face, trying to deny it, "I'm not crying, stupid..."

"Jean..." Marco's smile started to disappear as he watched his friend struggle to keep his tears at bay.

"Shut up..." Jean sniffed.

Marco smiled and looked away.

After Jean calmed down, he held onto Marco's right hand, despite knowing that Marco would not be able to feel anything, and squeezed it hard, feeling his warmth.

He then took it up to his lips where he kissed it ever so gently as if it will break upon the slightest touch, closing his eyes and cherishing his best friend's warmth.

Marco did not look over after a long time, and Jean freaked out, putting Marco's hand down and standing up.

The first thing that came to Jean's mind was: Was Marco dead?

He rushed over to the other side of the bed, nearly stumbling over, and realized that Marco was just sound asleep.

_He must be tired…_ Jean thought.

He then also realized that he was such a fool. As long as the machine that was connected to him was not beeping continuously, everything should be fine.

He heaved a sigh of relief and sat back down.

Marco was asleep and Jean was quite clueless about what to do next.

He definitely did not want to disturb him, and the hospital does not allow visitors to stay too late.

In the end, he left a short note with a handful of scribbled words, "I'll be going home first. See you tmr."

* * *

Marco peeled open his tired eyes and squinted almost immediately from the sunlight pouring in though the windows.

He looked at the clock on the wall opposite his bed.

It was eight in the morning.

He noticed a piece of paper on the bedside table and reached over.

Smiling, he set the note down after reading it and waited for Jean.

However, there was no need to wait.

Jean was already there, head buried in his arms and snoring away.

Marco did not notice him, since he was on his right and he felt frustrated.

Jean must have sensed Marco staring at him, as he quickly shot up from his position.

"Good morning, Jean," to Marco, it had felt like ages since he had said his friend's name when it was just yesterday when he greeted him.

"Good morning, Marco…" Jean reached down and stroked his midnight black hair, ruffling it.

Marco grinned at his touch and leaned towards his hand, burying himself in it like a little puppy getting pet.

"Oh yeah, I nearly forgot," Marco suddenly mentioned. "Can you help me with something?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Well… I just want to learn how to write with my left hand…"

"Oh, is that so, okay," Jean merely said.

"Eh? But, but are you sure about this? I mean…" Marco wanted to protest as he was taken aback by the fact that Jean just agreed so easily.

"Of course I am."

Marco did not say anything.

"I may not be a leftie, but I'll try," Jean moved his chair over to the other side of the bed.

When he was about to sit down, a nurse came in with a tray. "It's time for your breakfast, Mr Bodt," she said as she pulled the table over to nearer to Marco and help adjust his back and pillow so he was sitting upright.

When the nurse left, Jean giggled and said, "I guess this is your warmup for today!"

Marco giggled along with him.

Jean watched Marco take his spoon and start to eat, one by one, bit by bit, when Jean could not take it anymore and decided to help him instead.

Taking over, Jean could not help but laugh at Marco's predicament : Eating with only one hand.

I guess that's what best friends do, right? Laugh at their friends' misfortune before helping them.

Jean easily scooped up some rice and Marco cooperated, by going "Ahh~", and Jean slid the spoon into his mouth.

It was Jean's first time feeding someone and he had no idea as to how to position the spoon when it enters someone's mouth, and he nearly spilled rice over Marco.

"Careful!" Marco exclaimed, and Jean just laughed.

For a moment there, Marco had nearly forgotten that he was in a hospital bed and that he was paralyzed with his days nothing but numbered.

After Marco finally finished breakfast, Jean went to clear the rubbish.

"Eh... Jean, have you eaten breakfast?" Marco asked when he came back.

"No, I didn't," Jean replied with an innocent face.

"Ehh?! B-But you need to eat! You, you should have told me earlier and I could have left some for you, you idiot!" Marco blurted everything out frantically at the speed of a bullet train and Jean nearly missed it.

Jean laughed Marco's words off and said, "It's fine, Marco, I'm not hungry."

"Bu-"

_Grooowl._

Jean blushed and scratched the back of his head, smiling sheepishly.

"You better eat now, Jean!"

"Haha, no way, really, I'm fine!"

Marco frowned and Jean went closer, and started to push his eyebrows apart. "H-Hey! What are you doing?" Marco shut his eyes as Jean massaged his eyebrows gently.

Jean chuckled, "Don't frown too much, if not you'll become like Professor Levi."

Marco burst out laughing heartily at his joke, and Jean smiled upon seeing his smiling face, looking at it lovingly.

"Anyway, let's fulfill your wish…" Jean sat down and pulled out a notepad from his back pocket which he carried around with him all the time. "It's time to start practicing!"

Jean casually took the pen from the bedside table and thus began the lesson.

Jean held Marco's hand as he was trembling so much when he was trying to grip it. Slowly, the pen moved across the paper, and alphabets, then words were soon formed.

"Eh? I unconsciously wrote your name…" Jean let go and leaned back a little, observing the paper.

Marco also realized, "Ah… That's right…"

On the paper was a pretty scrawly handwritten 'Marco', with its 'o' all jelly-like.

Jean reluctantly blushed and decided to move on.

"Hm… What do you want to write next?"

"Well, it's better to try as many letters as possible first, won't it?"

"If you say so."

They tried many letters after that, from a to h, until Jean skipped to m for no particular reason.

Soon, they managed to perfect at least eighty percent of the alphabets, which was a great achievement nonetheless.

It was already lunchtime and a different nurse came in this time.

Again, Jean insisted on feeding Marco, while Marco made sure Jean ate some of his food as well.

"Ahh… I'm tired…" Marco groaned as Jean came over to adjust his posture.

Jean sat down and leaned back, staring at the yawning Marco blankly.

He was tired too, but he did not want to go back home or sleep yet. He wanted to accompany Marco just a little longer, even if he is sleeping or eating or… Or anything. As long as he is with him.

_There is no need to ask why._

"Marco…" Jean, still staring, called out. Marco looked at him questioningly. "It's gonna be April soon, and the cherry blossom trees will be blooming soon, too." Jean was somewhat in a daze and his tongue was a bit tangled up.

Marco eyes lit up before Jean could say any more, "Eh, really?! Can we go see them together?"

"Well, that is what I was gonna ask you."

"Can we?"

"Of course."

"Thank you so much, Jean!" Marco, out of excitement, wanted to jump up and hug him when he realized he could not. He remained stuck at the same position while struggling to move, as if he was drowning in quicksand.

Instead, Jean automatically got up and wrapped his arms around him, extinguishing some of Marco's pent up frustration.

Smiling sheepishly while feeling a fleeting tad of tears appear at the edge of his eyes, Marco whispered into his ear, "Thank you, Jean."

"It's okay, Marco. It's okay," the last couple of words were nothing but a breath leaving Jean's parted lips as he hugged him tighter.

After Jean pulled away, Marco felt the urge to tell him not to. He did not want his warmth to disappear just yet.

_Because it'll be gone soon._

"Next week, I'll bring you to Inokashira Park. There are swan boats for rental there so we can view the sakura from the water."

"But we need to cycle the…"

"I'll do the cycling and you'll do the viewing, so don't worry about it," Jean assured him almost immediately upon seeing his confused eyes. Before Marco could object, he continued, "I'll also make some bento for us, so you won't starve on that day."

"But…" Marco looked for something to say, or rather something that he could do for Jean. However Jean only shook his head.

"I'm sorry…" Marco's voice trailed off.

"It's okay. I don't mind doing these kind of things for you. It's nothing at all," Jean said gently.

_Since it's you._

"I'll go check with the doctor if I can bring you out next week, and at the same time rent a wheelchair or somethin'."

After Jean went off, Marco sighed.

"Next week, huh… I don't know if I can…" Marco mumbled to himself.

"I'm sorry, Jean…"

_Thank you so much._

* * *

When Jean came back, he was as happy as a clam, "The doctor said tha-" However, he realized Marco was suddenly all wide-eyed and he did not reply him. Bewildered, he asked, "What's wrong, Marco?"

Marco snapped out of it and looked at Jean before he slowly averted his gaze away, "It's nothing…"

Noticing the slight tremble in his voice, Jean repeated his question again, sounding more concerned this time.

In the end, Marco gave in and said, "I'm just… A bit scared."

_It was obviously a lie._

"Scared?"

"Do you remember what the doctor said on the first day?" Marco paused, unwilling to look at his friend's eyes. "He said my days were _ numbered_. That means, that means… I could die anytime and I wouldn't even know. Not you nor me… I would just leave this world and…"

_I wouldn't be able to feel your warmth being wrapped around me anymore._

"I'm scared, Jean. I'm scared. I'm really scared… I mean… Where… Where will I go after I die? Is there heaven? Is there hell? Where exactly do I go? I'm scared, Jean, please… I don't…" Tears began to plummet onto his shirt.

_Help..._

His next words were just a soft whisper.

"I don't want to die yet…"


	2. Next Moments

"Marco, Marco, calm down!" Jean gripped his crying friend's shoulders as he looked at him straight in the eye. "Marco, listen. Listen to me."

Marco kept quiet and listened, biting his lip.

"It's going to be fine, okay? Everything's going to be fine," Jean spoke slowly.

Marco forcefully nodded.

Jean heaved a sigh of relief but Marco only broke out in tears again.

"Eh? Marco? Hey, stop…"

"I can only feel your hand on my left shoulder…"

"Ehh?! Wa-"

Marco wiped his tears away as he tried to calm himself down.

There was just sniffing echoing through the room for the next few seconds as Marco closed his eyes and cleared his mind.

Jean sat down on the chair, "Everything's gonna be fine." He repeated.

"Trust me," he added as a side note.

Marco looked up at him with pitiful eyes which were seeking for more comfort.

"B-Besides, you're not going to die yet, so don't think about it too much, 'kay?" Jean was bad at comforting people, even though Marco said otherwise before.

"Mm…" Marco hummed back in return. "Sorry… I caused so much trouble."

"No, you didn't do anything wrong. It's okay, alright? I'll be here with you."

_I'll be here._

_Trust me._

Marco hummed again and that was like music to Jean's ears.

"If you need anything, just call me," Jean assured him. "I know what you're gonna ask. 'But I don't have a cellphone' right? Don't worry, I bought one for you."

Jean reached into his bag and pulled out a simple looking box.

It was a Sony Ericsson.

"This ain't such a good one, though," Jean said as he pressed some buttons on it. "There, I've saved my number inside. So if you need anything, that's the only person you should call."

Marco took the phone and looked at the contact list. There was only Jean's.

"Anyway, unfortunately, I have to attend an important lecture by Professor Levi today. He warned that if we don't go, he'll make sure we run around the school campus ten times."

Marco chuckled, "It's alright. You can go."

Grinning from ear to ear, Jean jogged out of the ward, waving to Marco.

* * *

It was soon the week after, and Marco couldn't be any happier. Jean had planned to bring him out that day to Inokashira Park to view cherry blossoms, which was something neither Jean or Marco had done before.

When Jean came walking into the ward, he was pushing a wheelchair he had so-called borrowed from the hospital. Marco was already propped upright on his bed, all set and ready, and even _dressed up _in a plain T-shirt and long pants. "Hoho, all ready, huh? You sure are excited, aren't ya?" Jean teased him as he pushed the wheelchair to the side of his bed. "Yes!" Marco replied enthusiastically.

Jean grinned as his heart fluttered. A smiling Marco was his only remedy.

"Here, I'll carry you onto the wheelchair," Jean said as he slid his arms under Marco's knees, lifting him up princess-style while Marco flushed a little. "Thanks, Jean," Marco said. After making sure he was comfortable on the wheelchair, Jean hung his bag on one of the handles of the wheelchair and off they went.

* * *

They alighted at Mitaka Station and started to walk from there. They first passed by the Ghibli Museum, which was almost a dream come true for Marco as he loved, loved,_ loved _its films. They spent about an hour there, mostly sightseeing. Marco was always the first to spot the oh-so-familiar characters, like the life-sized robot soldier in _Castle in the Sky. _There were gift shops and even though Marco insisted on Jean not spending any more money on him - since he spent _time _making bento for the both of them - Jean still bought something for him, a Totoro plush toy. It was as big as Marco's torso and Jean said that he "could hug it to sleep every night now" and that he "wouldn't be that lonely anymore".

Jean added after contemplating, "Also, whenever you miss me, you can just look at it. It'll remind you of me, won't it?"

Marco blushed and nodded shyly.

Next, they - or rather just Jean - walked to Inokashira Shizen Bunka-en Gardens. It was basically a zoo with tons of greenery and animals. They first went to the squirrel trail where they could get close up and personal with the energetic yet shy squirrels. One of them even climbed onto Jean's arm, and Marco, who was holding onto Jean's cellphone at that time, managed to snap a picture secretly.

They spent a long time at the zoo, and it was almost lunchtime soon as they stepped out of the zoo.

On the way to the rental boat office where they planned to have their lunch on the swan boat, they stopped by the Benzaiten Shrine.

"Shall we go pray first?" Jean asked Marco.

"Sure."

The shrine was pretty empty at that time, since most of the visitors were off having lunch elsewhere.

Jean stood beside Marco as he rang the bell.

_Clap clap._

Followed by silence as they both prayed.

_Thank you so much, god, for giving me this chance to come to this place and spend quality time with Jean. It is the best time of my life and I wish it could last just a little longer. I'm glad that I am able to spend my last moments with him. Thank you. _

It was not exactly a prayer from Marco, but it works.

_If a god exists... Or even a miracle exists, please grant Marco a chance to live on in this world until old age. I don't want to see him off yet. Not just yet. Not ever, actually. If a miracle exists, please, please, _please_ let him live on in this cruel world. It may be a cruel world, but I'll protect him. Please help him. He's a nice and smart boy, so please, just help him._

For Jean, it was the complete opposite: He prayed. Hard. With all his heart.

After they were done and were off on their way once more, Marco suddenly asked, "What did you pray for, Jean?"

"Eh?" Taken back, Jean hesitated. "Well... Nothing much..."

Marco tilted his head up, and smiled at Jean, "It's okay if you don't want to say it." Pausing, he looked straight ahead and continued in a softer, and somewhat embarrassed voice, "For me, I thanked God I was able to spend time with you... Before I leave."

The last three words were forced out and Jean knew it. Jean's eyes softened upon listening to Marco, and felt the sudden urge to just pounce on him and hug him with all his might. However, despite the urge, Jean did not say anything and continued walking towards the boat rental office.

* * *

After they had finally reached the rental boat office, the owner said there was one swan boat left and Jean panicked. "I- We'll take it, please!" Jean even forked out money almost immediately. The owner laughed and told him to calm down as he received the money and led them to the single remaining swan boat. Pushing the wheelchair near to the edge of the wooden platform, Jean lifted Marco up again princess-style and onto the right seat of the swan boat.

Turning around, Jean asked the owner, "Is it okay if I leave the wheelchair in your care?"

"No problem, mister."

Relieved, Jean took his bag and hopped onto the swan boat, next to Marco.

Waving back at the owner, Jean pedaled off while Marco held onto the bento. "Up ahead are the cherry blossom trees already. Let's hurry up so we can eat while viewing them," Jean said.

As the boat moved down further along the river, it got narrower and narrower and the cherry blossom trees became closer and closer. Pink petals swirled and danced around in the air as it landed on the water silently, forming tiny almost-invisible ripples in the water.

"Uwaaa...!" Marco gasped in awe, eyes glittering at the breathtaking sight of the pink cherry blossoms. "They're so beautiful! I can't believe I'm actually here!"

"I know, right?" Jean was looking up at the cherry blossoms on his side as he steered the boat to the right a little more so Marco could go closer to the trees. Every now and then, he would look over to Marco and a smile would subconsciously appear on his face. Marco was like a little child who had discovered something new and was freaking out and being all excited and happy about it.

_Marco was his only remedy._

Jean slowly stopped pedaling and Marco looked over. "Let's eat, shall we?"

"Of course!" Marco opened one of the bento boxes with one hand to reveal a cute cat made out of rice and small thin strips of seaweed and sesame seeds . It was surrounded with broccoli and carrots. It was a simple and healthy containing lots of greens.

"It's... It's so adorable!" Marco exclaimed, looking up at Jean who was blushing away.

"Th-Thanks..." He muttered.

"How long did you take to make this?"

"Eh? Ah, well... Uh, 2 and a half hours in total, I guess?"

_It was actually about three hours._

"W-Well, as you know me, I'm really clumsy when it comes to food so I kinda screwed up a few times..." Jean added upon seeing Marco's shocked and surprised face.

_Many times, actually._

Hiding his hands under his thighs, Jean looked away, gazing at the falling petals, absent-minded. There was a short moment of silence until Jean could feel Marco touch his arm as gently as a feather, "Let me see your hands, Jean."

_Damn_, Jean thought. He had wanted to hide it all the way, hoping that Marco would miss it out from viewing the cherry blossoms, but it seemed like his plan had to backfire on him.

Pulling his hands out from his hot thighs slowly, Jean held them out for Marco to see.

It was covered in small plasters and had tiny cuts here and there, especially at the fingers.

"Jean, you-"

"Don't say anymore!" Jean suddenly interrupted. "I know what you're going to say, but don't say it, okay? Today's a happy day and I don't want to upset you! A-And I didn't screw up just 'a few times', it was more than that, alright? I... I'm really sorry, but I didn't want you to worry so..."

Jean wanted to continue but Marco had brought his bruised left hand to his lips and kissed - or rather pecked - it gently. He stayed like that for a second or three before putting it down, saying in an angelic voice - it was through Jean's voice filter, "Please don't do something like that for me again, okay?"

Jean could feel hot water being splashed onto his cheeks as blood rushed to make up for his beating heart, "Y-Yes, okay."

Marco smiled and fished out a pair of chopsticks.

"Ah... Erm, can you help me separate it?" Marco asked. Jean took it and broke them apart but he did not give it back, even though he knew Marco could use chopsticks with his left hand now.

Well, he _is_ well-trained by Jean, of course.

"Let me feed you. It's been quite some time since I last did, because you can eat on your own now," Jean told him, holding the pair of wooden chopsticks away from Marco on purpose.

"Fine..." Marco gave in, sensing the sincerity in his voice.

Jean then took the bento box and started to feed him, reliving the days when Marco had no choice but to let him feed him.

Every now and then, Marco would praise Jean on his food, saying that it was perfectly seasoned and that it was still fresh. Even though Marco had repeated it over and over, Jean was unwilling to believe him.

"How can it still be fresh after it had gone all the way from my kitchen?" Jean disagreed as he stuffed a big broccoli dipped in light soy sauce - Marco loves those - into Marco's mouth.

"Mmpf... Ith thill freth!" Marco said with his mouth full.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, idiot!" Jean chuckled as he stuffed some rice into Marco's already full mouth on purpose. Marco chuckled back, too, but it was no more than some air rushing out of his nostrils.

Soon, Marco finished his bento and Jean moved on to his own. He had to pedal and eat at the same time, and even assure Marco, "It's a good way to lose some weight at the same time, isn't it? Besides, you get to view more cherry blossoms now that it's moving."

Marco tried to protest but Jean came up with a better excuse, "The cherry blossoms up front are more beautiful than the ones we saw behind."

Marco sighed and Jean smiled, "Don't be a worrywart all the time, man. Be more carefree, like me!"

The black-haired man could only grin upon hearing Jean say that, hugging his Totoro plush toy closer to him.

Jean finished his bento quickly and set it aside as he kept up the pace. Marco was silent throughout the whole journey, just staring intently at the pink cherry blossoms flutter down from the branches.

As the river got narrower, Jean slowed down to let him enjoy the scenery.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes as the aroma engulfed him.

When he was about to exhale, Marco muttered, "I wish I can touch the water from here..."

"Eh?" Marco was sitting with his right side to the water and Jean was starting to regret letting him sit on the right seat. "Sorry, Marco. I shou-"

"It's not your fault, Jean. At least, this way, I can touch you easily."

_And feel your precious everlasting warmth._

"T-That's what I've always loved about you, Marco... Your optimism really..." Jean said as he grinned sheepishly to himself, feeling Marco smile along with him.

"Hey, Jean..." Marco said shyly.

"Hm? What is it?"

Neither of them was looking out at the cherry blossoms anymore and they were focused on each other.

"Can I... Can I kiss you?" Marco started out as soft but soon grew confident.

"K-K-Kiss?" Jean stuttered over the word. "B-But I've never kissed anyone before, so I might not be able to..."

"It's just a peck," Marco whispered gently.

Jean gulped and stole a glance up at Marco's face.

"F-Fine, I'll try..."

Jean leaned closer to him, trying his best not to breathe too hard as he aimed for Marco's lips which were pulled into a thin smile. Marco closed his eyes and Jean told himself that it was all going to be okay and that it was going to be "just a peck".

Closer, closer.

Jean's lips were almost _grazing_ Marco's when he stopped for while to look at Marco.

His freckles were clearer and more obvious now, and Jean realized how smooth and bright his skin was. He then shut his eyes and snapped back to reality where he was about to kiss him.

He slowly pushed his lips against Marco's, feeling the warmth and softness envelope his.

Jean held there long enough that he began to tremble ever so slightly that he pulled away almost immediately, afraid that Marco might have felt him shiver.

After he drew back, he constantly rubbed his cheeks, trying to cool himself down - but to no avail, of course - as Marco chuckled at him.

"Thank you, Jean."


	3. Last Moments

**_A/n : Yo, what's up, guys! I'm done with the last chapter! Please take note that I might have a sequel to this :D This is the first time I've thought about a sequel so it's gonna be good, probably. This is my first JeanMarco thing so haha... Yoroshiku onegaishimasu! I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I do, though I cried while writing this. The perks of being a writer~ Anyway, enjoy!_**

* * *

_"Thank you, Jean."_

_These words were nothing but left behind.  
_

* * *

Time flew.

Or rather, it seemed to disappear into the dusty sunlight and smoke as the days started growing shorter and shorter... For Marco, that is.

* * *

It has been almost two months since Jean brought Marco to Inokashira Park where they spent almost an entire day there, having the best time of their lives with each other. For both of them, it seemed like they had only ate bento under the watch of beautiful pink cherry blossom trees and had their first kiss in a swan boat - and many others - just yesterday.

This is how it feels like to be blessed.

It has been almost two months, and Jean could see that the effects of the car accident finally kicking in at long last. This was the last thing he wanted to see - Marco staring at him as if he had not heard what he had just said, which was not really true, because Marco heard it. Every word, every bit, but his brain just did not want to do him a favor. He took a long time to process what Jean had just said, creating an awkward silence between them for what seemed like an eternity to Jean.

Every time Jean said something, he could feel something die inside him - _hope._

_This is how it feels like to wait for death to come._

* * *

"Man, today's lecture was hilarious!" Jean dropped his bag onto the chair before following suit. "Eren had really gotten himself into deep trouble - Professor Levi officially marked him as the 'teacher's pet'! He'll get targeted for answers now, hahaha!" Jean laughed at Eren behind his back.

"Eren..." Marco stared at Jean with innocent eyes, almost questioning him. One second. Two seconds. "Pff- Ahaha! I wish him luck then!" Marco tried to cover up the earlier silence with a quick laugh.

Jean beamed his 1000 watts smile but he could feel his chest ache a little.

Every now and then, Jean would come in and talk about what was happening and the latest news going around in the university they attended. Marco would listen, but he would respond only after a while of processing Jean's words.

This "a while" could only grow longer and longer with time.

"... And then Connie slipped and fell and spilled soup on _Sasha_! I mean, can you believe it? After that, Sasha..." He would go on for a while and Marco - still listening - would not spill as much as a single word out.

As Jean went on, Marco could only force his greatest smile and say nothing more, even when Jean stopped talking.

And every time - every _single _time - Jean wanted to burst out in tears, just from seeing that forced smile of Marco's. Up until then, his forced smile was the most painful thing ever.

It was like a dagger, stabbing deep into his chest repeatedly, drawing out more and more sorrowful blood.

Jean hated it.

He hated the pain. He hated the way Marco smiles like it was nothing, trying to act like he understood everything he had said. He hated how he just goes on and on... He hated himself.

At the end of the day, he realized that he was simply _running away._

* * *

Marco would insist on practising writing with his left hand every now and then. He was really bent on mastering it for some reason he did not tell Jean.

_Maybe it's on his bucket list or something_, Jean had thought.

Of course, they did practise, but Marco could only last for two hours before dozing off.

_Two hours. _

Two months ago, Marco could last from the time he woke up to lunchtime, which was about five hours.

_Five hours._

Jean would then adjust Marco's posture so he could lie down.

It was pretty obvious to Jean now, and he felt like crying every time he sees Marco sound asleep, because he knows that eventually, he would fall asleep and never wake up again.

He didn't want that.

He was afraid.

He was scared. Scared of the day when Marco would never open his eyes again.

He was scared of _death._

_Just like how Marco was._

_In the end, what goes around comes around._

* * *

Life at the university was finally becoming more relaxed now that the examinations were over.

Jean did not tell Marco that nearly their entire class already knew what happened because a couple of days after the accident, Eren and company decided to corner Jean during lunch period and make him spill the beans.

Over the span of the past two months, Jean had received a number of phone calls from their classmates complaining things like, "Hey Jean! Why wouldn't you let us see Marco?! Well... We wouldn't if Marco was the one who insisted!" or "Man, we tried stalking ya, but we ended up lost instead! How do you do that?" And Jean would just laugh them off, because he knew the real reason why they did not come to visit Marco on purpose.

Last month, Marco caught Eren talking, or rather yelling at Jean through the phone when he was visiting. Jean was already sitting and all ready to eat his homemade bento with Marco when his cellphone rang and he had to put aside his chopsticks.

"What is it, Eren?" Jean had grumbled, sounding deprived of food.

"Can Mikasa, Armin and I visit Marco today?" Eren had _yelled_ rather politely that day, much to Jean's surprise.

"No way, even if it's Mikasa," Jean replied.

Eren sighed on the other side of the phone, while Jean could hear Armin in the background going, "It's alright, Eren! Don't disturb them!"

Jean hung up and set his phone aside.

Marco overheard a little of their conversation, since the ward was so quiet, and asked, "What happened?"

It was Jean's turn to sigh as he said, "Sorry, Marco. I don't want them to visit you..."

"That's obviously a lie, Jean," Marco simply said, matter-of-factly, completely able to read him.

"Fine, fine... As you know, they seemed like a persistent bunch, but actually, they don't want to come visit you, since I always do that everyday. They just..." Jean paused before continuing. "They just don't wanna get in our way, I guess..."

"I see," Marco smiled and Jean could feel his heart becoming lighter.

_But if it's possible, I'd like them to visit you before you leave, even if it's just once._

* * *

Every now and then, Jean would walk in on Marco talking on the phone. _  
_

After he hung up, Marco would give him the answer he wanted to ask for, before he actually asked, "It's my mother. This way, I can at least assure her that I'm fine... In some other country." Marco chuckled dryly as he breathed the last few words.

One time, Jean remained silent for a while, then said in a low and serious voice, "Hey Marco... When you die, should I call your mother first? Or do I do that before your death?"

Marco, in turn, remained silent, looking down at his left hand which was resting on his thigh.

Seeing his friend's troubled expression, Jean quickly said, "O-Of course, it's your decision so I have no say in it..."

"It's fine," Marco whispered. "You don't need to let her know. I'll... You can do that after I leave."

Marco had never used the word 'die' for a long time.

"Sure, I will."

"Then I'll leave it to you."

* * *

_Now._

It is night.

Probably the last one for Marco.

He knew.

He knew it will be his last.

The other patients in the ward are sound asleep and a couple of them is snoring away.

Marco cannot sleep.

He knew.

He knew he can't.

Looking up at the greyish ceiling that is timidly illuminated by the ceiling light above his bed, he squints.

He wonders if he will see a similar light anytime soon.

He looks over and pulls the notepad that Jean left behind by accident earlier in the afternoon, when they had their last left-hand-writing practice, toward him with his left hand.

Opening the notepad, Marco pushes the pen, which was clipped in between the pages, out and onto his blanket as he flips through the pages that have been 'vandalized' with black ink.

The first handful of pages are filled with curvy, weak and jelly-like looking words, and in the middle of the very first page is Marco's name, written in bold capital letters.

_Jean held his hand which was trembling so much and started to write, the pen moving slowly but surely across the fresh new page of the notepad. Jean's hand was big and warm and secure. Marco had never felt safer. When they finished writing their first word, Jean leaned back and looked at the paper, a bit baffled, "Eh? I unconsciously wrote your name…" Marco's mouth shaped itself into a letter 'O' as he realized too__, "Ah… That's right…" _

The letter 'o' in Marco's name is jelly-like, completely unstable.

Marco flips to the next page to find that the next set of alphabets and words do not look like they are any better.

Marco smiles to himself as the memories gush through his blank, hollow mind.

The next page. And the next, and the next.

The words look prettier as Marco slowly flips through the notepad, gazing passionately at the pages with his black half-closed eyes.

_"We're really using it up fast, aren't we? I better go and buy a new one soon..." Marco heard Jean mutter as he tried to write Jean's name in secret, at a corner of one of the pages, while Jean was cutting some fruits for him.__"Yeah," Marco replied dryly, focusing on the paper. "Maybe a new pen, too." Jean nodded upon hearing Marco's suggestion, placing the slices of apple on a plate just before turning around, causing Marco to forcefully flip to the next blank page as naturally as possible.  
_

Marco flips slowly, and soon he was at the middle of the notepad. It is still filled up to the brim.

His meek smile twitches and trembles a little as he caresses the neatly written 'Jean' at the bottom right corner of the page. He had written it so hard that he can feel it on the next page.

_Jean..._

He keeps flipping, and soon he is at the last few pages of the flimsy notepad.

It is pretty empty at the back, and the ink is laid out nicely in the form of randomly written words.

Gently gripping the pen, he writes Jean's name once more.

_I think I'll keep this short._

_If I can.  
_

The pen moves across the mostly blank page swiftly. Marco is in four to five words and his hand feels numb.

He doesn't think he can keep it up much longer.

As he writes more, the paper gets stained with small droplets of tears hitting it, like it is drizzling mildly inside the ward.

_Jean, Jean..._

_I'm sorry..._

_Sorr..._

The pen slips silently through his pale fingers as he tries to wipe the stray hot tears away.

He closes the notepad rather hesitantly, and lays his head back on the soft pillow, staring at the blank ceiling once again.

Gravity really does its job well, and tears slide down his pale cheeks unwillingly once more.

He does not bring his hand up to wipe it away this time.

He's tired.

Way too tired, already.

Instead, he musters some strength and grabs the Sony Ericsson Jean bought for him two months ago from the table.

He brings it up to his face and punches in a set of numbers that he did not save.

It rings once, and Marco can feel his breaths becoming fainter.

Twice. _Hurry..._

She picks up.

"Hello?" Hearing the gentle and familiar voice, he feels a small smile tug at the corners of his lips as he tries to greet her back.

"I'm so sorry, mum..."

_If only I could have..._

He hangs up before she could say another word and the phone drops onto his blanket, along with his arm...

As his last warm breath escapes past his lips.

* * *

_Ah... It's so cold._

_Why is it getting colder and colder? _

_Ah... I'm falling. _

_Why am I falling deeper and deeper?_

_And where to?_

_All I see is darkness..._

_Am I breathing? _

_I don't know. _

_But, it's really cold, and I need something warm._

_But, I'm falling so deep, can I get something warm?_

_Jean._

_Jean._

_Jean, where are you?_

_..._

_I'm reaching out to you. _

_But where are you? I can't see you._

_Do you mind... reaching out to me, too?_

_Because I want to hug you._

_To feel your everlasting warmth once more. _

_Just once more. _

_Is that okay? _

_Jean. _

_Jean, I miss you._

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry.  
_

_I'm so sorry I had to leave first. _

_If only..._

_If only I could have..._

_If only I..._

_Could have said 'I love you'. _

_Then everything would have been so much better. _

_Hah..._

_So this is... How death feels like. _

_I'm sorry._

_I'm sorry I can't tell you how it feels like._

_You're scared of it, too, right? Like how I was.  
_

_I'm sorry. _

_Death is a really scary experience. _

_..._

_Please. _

_Please help me._

_Please pull me out of this eternal unyielding darkness. _

_It's scary down here. _

_Pull me out, please. I want to spend more time with you._

_I want to view the cherry blossoms with you._

_I want to laugh at your lame jokes with you._

_I want to eat your handmade bento with you._

_I want to hug you._

_I want to kiss you._

_I want to fall in love with you._

_But, my time is limited... So..._

_I'm sorry. _

_If only I could have done something for you. _

_If only I could have repaid you for all the things you've done for me._

_If only I had said, 'I love you, Jean," instead of thanking you, everything would have been so much better. _

_Thank you. Thank you._

_I'm sorry. _

_I love you._

* * *

"_Excuse _me?" Jean croaked into his phone at two in the morning. "What did you just say?" Jean had an urge to smash his phone against a wall and felt something gnaw at him.

_Déjà vu._

"I'm sorry," the nurse on the other end whispered back, in an attempt to _sound_ sorry.

Jean did not even bother hanging up and just squeezed his cellphone into his pocket, and left his warm and comfy fortress of blankets and pillows to head to the hospital in his singlet and shorts.

He knew what to expect, but he did not want to expect it.

Maybe he did not want to _accept _it instead.

Jean did not wave for a cab once he reached ground floor and decided to run instead.

Running in this time of year in a singlet and shorts is a bad idea. It was freaking cold, but Jean could feel nothing but his hot tears welling up in his eyes. He told himself not to blink too much and run faster, so that the tears could 'evaporate' in one way or another.

On the way to the hospital, he tried to clear his mind, telling himself over and over that everything was going to be okay and that when he steps into the same old familiar ward again, Marco will be there, waiting for him, sitting upright and beaming at him.

_Yeah, that's right. Marco's gonna be there. _

_Yeah._

The night was freezing but Jean was sweating like a pig in mid-summer. He had forgotten the last time he had ran so hard.

When he reached the entrance of the hospital where the doors slid opened for him automatically, he was sure he made it there in record time, with his slippers on.

Panting hard, he did not slow down as he ran straight to the ward.

Past the receptionists, past the greyish blue waiting chairs where parents and relatives wept their hearts out, past a handful of nurses and doctors trying to stay composed, turn left, then right twice.

He halted.

_Yeah... He's gonna be in there.__ Right in there, in that ward right in front of me.  
_

_Right?_

It was only when Jean stopped in his tracks that he realized that his whole body was trembling, shivering like a little kitten lost in a pile of white snow which had fallen on it. His legs, especially, he felt like they were going to give way any time soon and probably never be able to get up again.

Jean knew he had no choice but to go in, since he had already came all the way here.

_It's too late._

Taking a really deep and exaggerated breath, he shook his limbs a little to loosen himself up, to stop the trembling.

_Okay, okay, let's do this._

Stepping into the same old familiar ward that he would never forget, he was met with quite a heart-wrenching scene.

Standing there like a statue, he stared at where Marco was.

His mother was there, sobbing a puddle beside his bed with her back facing Jean, shoulders jerking up and down while soft hiccups echoed from her. Meanwhile, a young nurse attended to her, patting her back as gently as she could, trying to comfort her.

Jean had not taken a single step from the doorway and was just staring at the whole scene : Marco's mother sobbing uncontrollably, a nurse trying to comfort her but to no avail... And Marco.

He could not see Marco's face from where he was standing, and he felt an urge to move forward, to stand right in between Marco's mother and the bed.

_Hey, Marco, I wonder what's your expression's like now. Haha... Looks like your mum found out about it. The cat's out of the bag now... There's no need to hide anymore. _

_There's no need to._

Taking a couple of steps forward, he could see more of his best friend's torso now.

Jean was glad that during his previous health checkup in school- just about a couple of days ago - the nurse told him that he needed to get a pair of spectacles, because he knew that he did not want to see more of Marco.

He was afraid.

He did not want to know more.

However, his body downright refused to listen to him, and moved further in.

He could nearly see Marco's face now, almost to the chin and his body started to tremble all over again. He started to breathe harder and his heart was pounding loud in his ears like a huge drum.

He did not want this.

Subconsciously, he walked over to Marco's mother, nearly tripping over his own feet, and stood beside her like a bodyguard.

Marco's mother noticed him, and looked over and Jean could feel his fists clench by their own. Her eyes were like two black pearls, about to crack open.

Her face was completely wet despite the number of tissues the nurse handed her. Seeing Jean, she calmed down a little and the Jean could hear the nurse heaving a small sigh of relief to herself.

"J-Jean..." Mrs Bodt croaked.

Jean was bad at this.

As long as he is near someone who is crying, he will cry along with that person.

Clenching his teeth and pressing his tongue hard against his gums, he held his breath. No way in hell was he going to cry now, not when he had not even seen Marco yet.

Mrs Bodt's face scrunched up and there came another round of tears streaming down her face, causing the nurse to have a bit of a shock.

Jean looked away almost immediately and was thus facing Marco's legs which were hidden under the blanket. Eyes widening, he covered his mouth as he tried to push the tears back, which were coming at full throttle now.

Unfortunately, the stubborn tears just had to come sliding down his cheeks and into the tiny cracks his palm had made with his face.

Teeth clenched harder. Tongue pressed harder.

Mrs Bodt took a step forward and took Jean in her arms, as if she was not suffering as well.

Jean felt her arms wrap around him, and the warmth from her body hit him hard like an arrow, deep into the chest.

Jean looked away from Marco and shut his eyes instead. Mrs Bodt was slightly shorter than Jean and she pushed his head past her right shoulder, almost as if she was trying to hide Jean away from Marco.

In the darkness, Jean could feel his face getting hotter and he, in turn, wrapped his arms around Mrs Bodt in an attempt to comfort themselves.

His arms pressed hard into her back as more tears slid down his face, which was scrunched up now, too.

Amidst the strong struggle of trying not to cry too hard, Jean mumbled into Mrs Bodt's ear while hugging her even tighter, "I'm so sorry... I wasn't able to..."

Mrs Bodt clutched at Jean tighter upon hearing Jean's voice which was about to fall apart, mumbling back, "It's alright, it's okay..." Mrs Bodt was on the verge of losing her cool.

"But..." Mrs Bodt paused to sniff, hard, and Jean could her voice disintegrating slowly as she spoke once more. "Thank you... for helping my son. I'm sure he enjoyed himself..." Mrs Bodt lost the battle and yelled into Jean's shoulder which was now drenched.

The nurse had excused herself a long time ago and Jean could finally breathe properly.

Jean sniffed and said in a broken string of words, "Mrs Bodt... I-If only... If only I could have... I..." Jean did not know what to say. He still could not see Marco's face, and felt like if he were to see him, everything would become clear : The words he wanted to say, the answers to the questions he never asked. However, he was scared. He did not want to see Marco just yet. A part of him knew that if he were to see him now, everything would be gone. He wanted to stay a little more ignorant for just a little longer.

_Sorry._

"I already said that it's okay, dear... You don't need to feel bad or anything... I can, I can understand," even though Mrs Bodt assured Jean, he could still feel a pang of guilt strike him over and over on his back.

Mrs Bodt pulled back and the warmth left Jean's skin, making him feel desperate to go back to that same warmth.

"Marco... Probably just wanted to spend more time with the one he truly loves," Mrs Bodt told Jean, wiping her tears away.

"Eh?" Jean mumbled, rubbing his face, even though he knew more tears would be shed sooner or later.

"He left a note on the table there... I didn't read it, but it seems like it's for you," Mrs Bodt said. "I'll go to the ladies' to wash up..." Walking briskly away, she did not look back.

It almost seemed like she was trying to escape.

Now it was just Jean and Marco.

Jean went around the bed, trying not to look at Marco, and took the note quietly.

The note was from the notepad, and it was flipped right to the page where Marco's letter was.

Maybe it was just Jean, but when he gripped the notepad, he could feel warmth radiating from it.

With trembling hands and his heart pounding hard against his ribcage, he read the note.

_"Jean, I'm sorry. I'm sorry apologizing is the only thing I can do now. The end is near for me right now. I don't think I can last much longer. But thank you. Thank you. Thank you for all the things you've done for me. I'm sorry I wasn't able to repay you in any way. I'm sorry I troubled you. I'm sorry I had to leave earlier than you. I'm sorry I can't tell you how death feels like. I'm sorry I couldn't say what I wanted to, so I have to do it here._

_I'll keep this short. Sorry._

_Thank you for everything. Just saying thanks isn't enough I know but maybe at least my feelings will be able to reach you. Thank you for bringing me to Inokashira Park. I haven't forgotten it. Thank you for teaching how to write. Now you know why. Thank you for letting me eat your handmade bento. It was very delicious. Thank you for the kiss. You're the best kisser. Thank you. Thank you. I'm sorry. _

_Thank you. _

_I enjoyed it all._

_I love you, Jean."_

Shattered fragments of wails escaped Jean's lips as he knelt down, clenching his fist and crumpling the stiff paper, which was originally stained with Marco's tears, in his shivering hand. His eyes pricked with salty tears, he let out a voiceless, silent scream into the stiff, mourning air, dampening Marco's last words in his hand.

_Damn, damn, damn!_

_Dammit, Marco... I... _

_I'm so sorry._

_All along, I was just..._

Standing up, his joints cracking, he wiped his tears away once more and exhaled heavily. He no longer felt cold, even though the window was wide open for all the icy wind to rush in and engulf his exposed skin. The tears had left him burning.

Breathing steadily, he tried to stable his shaking heart as he moved closer.

_I'm sorry._

_All along, I was just running away. _

_Away from you._

The stubborn stray tears which remained in his eyes blurred his vision and he did not know if that was a good thing or not.

_It hurts. It stings._

He moved closer and was finally standing right beside him. He subconsciously blinked the tears away, letting them flow on their own accord down his already tear-stricken face.

He could see Marco clearly now. As clear as crystal. He could feel more tears well up in his eyes as he clenched his teeth and told himself not to cry over and over like a broken record.

_Those tears weren't enough._

Finally, he found the answers he was looking for all this while. He finally understood everything.

_He finally found Marco._

He could finally cry with all his might, once he was done here. He could finally say...

He took a step closer and bent lower.

Marco's face was as bright as always, his adorable freckles standing out. His hair was still as silky, like it had just dried after a nice warm bath.

However Marco was not that warm now.

Jean held up a hand a brushed Marco's black fringe away from his forehead. He bent down and was about to peck him gently on the forehead when he stopped.

_No, not here._

He took his hand off Marco's forehead and cupped his cheek instead. It was icy cold.

_He could finally say..._

Pressing his warm and trembling lips against Marco's cold and still lips, he breathed, "I love you, too, Marco."

* * *

Alighting at the bus stop where not even a single soul could be found, Jean flipped open his cellphone to check the time.

_It's still early_, Jean thought. _Guess I'll go over first. _

Strolling through the trees on the concrete pathway, Jean whistled a sad tune, closing his eyes and going with the flow.

He stopped as if on cue, both his tune and his legs. He turned to the left and started walking up the stairs, his black shoes clicking and tapping on the rough concrete.

"1, 2, 3..." He counted the steps off in his head.

"16," Jean turned to the right and started walking down. "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6."

Jean knelt down in front of the sixth grave.

He looked at the monochrome picture of a smiling Marco engraved in the grave and smiled a little, gently caressing it.

"Yo, Marco," he said softly. "How are you?"

His smile grew wider.

"You know," Jean said as he decided to sit cross-legged. "Yesterday, Armin told me that your name roughly means 'Messenger from the God of War'. Haha, it really does give everything a whole new meaning now, eh?"

Fiddling with the small bouquet of white, pink, yellow and peach-colored roses, Jean smiled sheepishly to himself while looking down at his fingers.

"I hope you're... Doing well over there..." He muttered. "We're all doing well. The exams are over already and..."

He exhaled, a rush of air gushing out of his nostrils, as his nose stung, throat cringed and tears came and went, "Your mum's doing pretty well now. I'm glad, but I think the ones you should thank... Are the ones standing behind me."

Beaming his 100 watts smile, he stood up just as Reiner slapped him hard on the back, nearly toppling him over again, and Armin pounced on him, shouting something like, "Long time no see!"

It was the holidays and they had not seen each other for what seemed like ages after the examinations.

Jean knelt down once more and said, "They were the ones who helped your mum and I through this ordeal... The ordeal of losing you."

The classmates lined up and said their prayers silently in their hearts and when it was Jean's turn, he bent over and kissed the picture of Marco, smiling happily at him... From the other side.

Jean placed his bouquet of roses onto the smooth cold surface of the grave, letting the wind carry away the aroma. He stayed there for a second or two before standing up.

"Let's go, guys... I've already said my piece," Jean turned, back facing his friends and walked off, unwilling to let them see his hot tears reluctantly stream down his face.

_Thank you, Marco. _

_I love you._

_I enjoyed it all, too._


	4. Sequel!

**HEY GUYS. I've written a sequel to Last Moments, where Marco continues his life in another world where he could see Jean just through a flat screen. Aaaanyway, here's the link to it - just include ' ' in front:**

/s/10444020/1/Lost-Moments-Sequel-to-Last-Moments


End file.
